


A Good Day

by Dolimir



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Over the years, Jim Murphy had seen a lot of children who’d been touched by tragedy.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Day

Over the years, Jim Murphy had seen a lot of children who’d been touched by tragedy, although not so much in his life as one of the spiritual leaders of Blue Earth, Minnesota. After all, a town that sported the country’s largest Jolly Green Giant statute and was known as the birth place of the ice cream sandwich fell more into the quaint category.

In Vietnam, however, he had seen more than his fair share of children with haunted eyes. It was, in fact, one of the reasons he had decided to pursue the church instead of medicine when he got released into the real world, despite his having been trained as a medic in the Corps.

With his peripheral work in the hunting community, he had met several emotionally scarred children, either victims of supernatural violence or children of victims, who had been spared witnessing the violence done to their parents only to live with their loss and grief.

But to have one of his oldest and dearest friends show up on his doorstop with such a child in tow shook Jim to his core. He had always kept his hunting interests separate from his real life, had never so much as hinted he was aware that supernatural activity was more than a byproduct of an overactive imagination. But once he heard John’s story, he knew he could no longer keep silent. He took John Winchester and his boys in and proceeded to teach John everything he knew.

Sammy was a surprisingly happy toddler, full of smiles and wide eye curiosity, but in John’s quest to learn what had killed his wife, he had a tendency to become wrapped up in his reading. Rather than nag, Jim quietly stepped up to the plate to help nurture Sammy’s sweet countenance.

Jim had set up four different playpens in various areas of the house and tended to carry on one-sided conversations with Sammy when the toddler wasn’t sleeping or engrossed in his toys. John, when he surfaced from his studies, thought it was hysterical that his big bad Marine buddy was so maternal. Jim didn’t mind the razzing as humor from John was always a good sign, even if it was at his expense.

Of course, having Sammy in his constant presence also meant having Sammy’s silent protector in attendance as well. In the two months John and his boys had been with Jim, Jim had never heard the boy utter a word, although he could communicate more with a raised eyebrow and a shrug than most mimes Jim had had the unfortunate pleasure of seeing perform.

The first week the Winchesters were in Blue Earth, Dean had remained plastered to his father’s side, leaving only to supervise Jim when he took Sammy for his bath or to change his diaper. Disapproval practically rang throughout the house those first days, but it had slowly morphed into cautious wariness and finally into a grudging acceptance.

Dean was also the best behaved child Jim had ever seen, although Jim would give up all rights to Mrs. Henderson’s delicious desserts just to see the boy throw caution to the wind and do something impish.

John was aware Dean’s behavior wasn’t normal, had even tried to take him to a therapist, but the whole session had ended in disaster when the therapist had asked to see Dean by himself. The boy had simply curled in on himself and silently wept until the therapist had to admit defeat. It took nearly two weeks for Dean to let John out of his sight after the incident.

Jim and John had devised a plan to slowly draw Dean out of his shell. Jim began to take care of Sammy, steadily moving further and further away from John. Dean was torn between seeking the shelter of his father’s presence to protecting his brother.

The plan had worked better than either of them expected. While obviously frightened, Dean would follow Jim wherever he took Sam.

Dean eventually allowed Jim to feed him, would accept items from his hand and even allowed Jim to touch him from time to time. In the overall scheme, it wasn’t much, but Jim celebrated each moment of trust.

The closest Dean ever came to showing any sort of mirth was when Jim tried to feed Sammy. If Sammy didn’t like a particular flavor, he didn’t fuss, he didn’t cry, he simply spit it back out. Jim tried everything he could to get Sammy to eat, his attempts often bordering on the ridiculous, even by his own standards. But the attempts often lightened the emptiness in Dean’s eyes and Jim was willing to play the fool for those little victories.

If Sammy got too stubborn, Jim would simply hand the spoon to Dean, as Sammy had a tendency to accept whatever his brother was trying to feed him. Smugness was the only childlike emotion Jim consistently saw from Dean, but it only surfaced when Dean was able to get his brother to do something the adults in his life couldn’t.

“Hey boys,” Jim said, although he didn’t turn from the window. “Why don’t we go outside for a while?”

Sammy squealed in delight, clapped his hands and didn’t fuss too much when Jim put him in a light jacket. Dean dutifully put on his own jacket and followed Jim outside.

Jim put Sammy in his playpen, then sat at the patio table and started working on his sermon for Sunday’s service.

Sammy immediately started his favorite game of throwing all of his toys out of the pen and making Dean fetch them back.

It took several moments for Jim to realize the giggling he heard wasn’t Sammy’s. Ever so slowly, he raised his gaze and watched Dean grin from ear to ear as he raced around the yard gathering toys and plopping them back into the playpen.

In Jim’s book that smile was a miracle and he closed his eyes and gave a prayer of thanks.


End file.
